


Thrown Off the Weight of This Crazy Stone

by kashmir



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-08
Updated: 2006-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-08 17:31:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/77861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kashmir/pseuds/kashmir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is the one who wants slow, lazy all day long sex. Sam is pleasantly surprised but more than willing to go along with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thrown Off the Weight of This Crazy Stone

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_fluffathon/profile)[**spn_fluffathon**](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_fluffathon/) prompt #21 _Dean is the one who wants slow, lazy all day long sex. Sam is pleasantly surprised but more than willing to go along with it._. Beta-ed by the loverly [](http://arabella-hope.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://arabella-hope.livejournal.com/)**arabella_hope**. Title stolen from the lyrics of Alexi Murdoch's 'Orange Sky.'

They'd just killed a raw head in some small, nowhere town in Alabama and if once they had reached the room, Sam had clung a bit more and held on a little longer the night before, he wouldn't admit it. Dean wouldn't ask either. But by the shadows in both their eyes, they were remembering another raw head, another town, another outcome that had almost cost Dean his life.

Sam woke up the next morning to an empty bed, the sun streaming in under the old orange curtains that hung in the windows. It turned the room a strange shade of red and he sat up blearily, scratching at his stomach where both his and Dean's come had dried messily the night before, looking around the room for his brother. Just then he heard the door open and Dean walked in, the sharp bite of winter following him. Sam shivered and pulled the blankets around him tighter.

Dean smirked and wordlessly handed Sam one of the two coffees he carried. He sat his own down on the nightstand between the two beds and slid out of his leather coat, slinging it onto the unused bed before plopping onto the one Sam occupied. Sam just took a sip of his perfect latte, silently amused how Dean always made sure to get him exactly what he wanted, even if it meant being called a girl over his choice in caffeinenated beverages.

Dean let out a small sigh and started to unlace his boots. He slid them off, then stood up and pulled his tee over his head before working on getting out of his jeans. Sam watched all this with a mild curiosity, the coffee and the sight of Dean's skin waking him further. When Dean was down to just his boxers, he lifted up the blankets and looked pointedly at Sam. "Move over, Sasquatch. You take up enough room when you're sleeping."

Sam shifted and couldn't fathom why Dean was crawling back into bed with him instead of dragging Sam _out_ of bed and packing the Impala, blowing out of town faster than you could say 'later.' But he didn't say anything, just let Dean settle back against the pillows with a contented sigh. Dean reached for his coffee (black, of course) and started to drink.

Sam watched him for a few moments before he couldn't help himself any longer. "Dean... Uh. What's goin' on?"

Dean arched a brow, sat his cup down and looked Sam right in the eye. "I'm drinking coffee, Sam. You know, because it's morning. Did you hit your head last night or something?" He bent forward as if to check Sam's head for bumps or bruises and Sam leaned out of his reach.

"No, Dean. I mean the whole... being in your underwear, lazily sipping your coffee in bed thing. Shouldn't we be... I don't know. On our way to the next big bad, the next hunt?" Sam's brow furrowed with his confusion.

Dean gave a tiny smile and reached over and took Sam's latte, setting it beside his own cup before tugging at Sam's arm until Sam practically fell into Dean's warm flank. "You never heard of playing hooky Sammy? Damn, I was sure I taught you that one. See, today, we are going to pretend that all that shit outside the door of our room has stopped and all we're gonna worry about is what goes on in here. Plus, we need some R&amp;R. So. You up for a day in bed, princess?"

Sam tried to _not_ grin like a complete idiot and leaned up to place a soft, coffee flavored kiss on Dean's dry lips. "Yeah, ok. Sure."

Dean grinned even wider and smacked Sam lightly on the ass, his open palm making a dull crack on Sam's bare skin. "Alrighty then, Sammy, my boy. Good deal." He rolled over until he was splayed on top of Sam, his skin suddenly searing hot against Sam's chest, his hard cock rubbing against Sam's through the threadbare fabric of Dean's boxer briefs.

Sam smiled back at Dean and then licked at the spot on Dean's neck that never failed to make him whine deep in his throat. Dean did, eyes falling closed, lashes dark against his freckled skin and Sam smiled to himself as he slid his fingers under the elastic band of Dean's underwear.

Yeah, he thought, some R&amp;R was _just_ what they needed.


End file.
